


So Like Her

by TwoCatsTailoring



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Incest, M/M, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, ffxvnsfwweek2018, fic/art trade, final fantasy xv nsfw week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 13:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring
Summary: this was part of a fic/art trade with tumblr useragi92for ffxvnsfwweek 2018. Agi's artwork can be foundhere!





	So Like Her

**Author's Note:**

> this was part of a fic/art trade with tumblr user [agi92](http://agi92.tumblr.com) for ffxvnsfwweek 2018. Agi's artwork can be found [here!](http://78.media.tumblr.com/786d0112dcf2813cf9620d15b733bda7/tumblr_inline_p4k4ycp9Na1s9xbfw_500.png)

There were time when Noctis was so infuriatingly his child that Regis had no idea what to do with either of them. It was a quandary that he knew plagued all parents at some point, but Regis was sure that the additional weight and expectation of the Crown added to the amount of anxiety and angry that he felt in those moments.

But then there were times that Noctis was so like his mother that it woke the ache in Regis’s heart - the spot she’d occupied since they were children and had left so terribly vacant - that Regis was certain that it must be a mistake. That she’d raised him as sure as he had, that she had been there for every moment of his life.

Because that turn of his head, that glint in his eyes, that cock of his hip; they were all her. Even the way he rolled his eyes everytime regis pointed out the similarities between mother and son. It was as if she’d been there all along.

And some days, like this one, the crushing realization that she had not been there at all was like a physical blow. It took the joy out of the world. Everything looked gray, everything looked bleak. In these moods, not even Clarus could comfort him. And today? Today must be worse than most because someone had sent Noctis to him.

He’d hoped when his son was a baby, that he would never have to see his father like this; red-rimmed eyes that refused to cry, shoulders slumped, almost boneless in his lethargy. But that hope died when Noctis had been just seven years old. Because all little boys, even well-attended Princes, were wont to wander away.

And so Noctis had discovered his father’s brown moods by accident and Regis had taken great pains to assure that he’d not found him such again. And it had worked well until the Wall began to take its toll on him. Then Regis was not as able to secret himself away from all prying eyes as easily and found as he aged that perhaps he did not care to as much.

But Noctis, with all of the rebellion and bravado of his teenage years giving way to a more responsible young man, had found him now. Kneeling in front of his chair, his face creased with concern - so very like hers would have been.

“Dad, tell me what I can do.”

He was like her. So like her not just in looks and gestures but in heart. He loved his friends so easily, without pretense, without necessity for grand gestures. Had a sharp wit like hers. Was reserved among strangers, though his mother had that from force of habit, not by nature.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” Regis whispered. “She had eyes like yours. Hair too.”

He was as lost now as he had been when he was a child, not sure what to make of an old man’s sorrow over a mother he’d never known. Certainly he’d seen her portrait, had heard the stories of her. But how could he relate at all? He hadn’t known her.

Another stab of pain caught in regis’s chest and he patted his son’s shoulder. “There is nothing,” he said finally, answering Noctis’s question at last. “This will pass in time.”

“D- d’you wanna talk about her?”

The relief at the inquiry was enough for Regis to overlook the oddness of the question itself. Noctis had never shown a lot of interest in his mother - another trait that was so like her it hurt. If someone didn’t have a direct impact on her, she only took a minor interest in them. Such was the way of life in the Citadel circles.

And so Regis talked. And Noctis finally listened. He didn’t nod off, he didn’t pull out his phone, he didn’t get distracted by anything at all this time. He listened. Regis thought for a moment that perhaps someone had switched Noctis for his security double, but then he brushed a speck of lint from his shirt the same way his mother had and Regis let that thought depart.

He did not know how long he went on, but it had to have been a long time. Noctis had the pale purple rings around his eyes, same as she used to get when she was tired, and the sky had traded sunset for full night by the time he found a stopping point. And he did feel lighter. Easier now, having told their son, easier now having shared the stories of her as he knew her.

But, still the stubborn empty spot throbbed.

Noctis rose and stretched and crossed to perch on the arm of Regis’s chair. He draped an arm around Regis’s shoulders and rested his head on his shoulder. “You really miss her.”

Regis reached to ruffle his son’s hair, making a scoffing noise when he was greeted with stiff spikes instead of a fluffable mop. “I very much do, sometimes. She was my partner in all things.”

“And Clarus?”

Regis shook his head and waved a hand, dismissively. “There’s other times for that conversation, son.”

And Noctis just let it go. He must be truly pathetic right now for Noctis, his Noctis so like his mother in his tenacity, just let that go with little more than a huff. Weather of laughter or exasperation, Regis didn’t mind.

They stayed there, looking out across the rooflines of the Crown City for a long time until Noctis lifted his head and cast a sad, sidelong look up at Regis, “You know if there’s something I can do to help, all you have to do is ask.”

He wasn’t sure what it was, maybe it was the way he looked away, his lashes lowering like hers had when he’d been unsure of something. Maybe it was how the lights caught the blue of his son’s eyes as he started to turn away, suddenly uncomfortable with how open and honest he was being with his feelings.

But whatever it was, he wasn’t thinking about it at all when Regis reached out and turned Noctis’s head back and kissed him. Long, slow. Gentle and half waiting for Noctis to pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, Regis felt Noctis’s arms circle his neck, hauling himself closer and it was Regis who ended the kiss.

“Noctis, I…,” regis began, not sure where he was going to end.

“Dad, it’s fine,” Noctis assured him, “If it helps, it’s fine.”

That sounded both more like his son and less at the same time. And it did help. Somehow, someway, it helped to hold the last piece of her he had left, to pretend just for a few moments that those were her arms around him.

That those were her hands on his cheeks, her lips on his.

Regis closed his eyes, letting memory fill in the gaps in the reality he was in. Noctis peppered kisses along his jaw, making him smile then laugh as his breath tickled Regis’s ear.

“You like that, huh?” There was a wry grin in Noctis’s voice that Regis knew would look so like Aulea’s that he didn’t bother opening his eyes to see it. “I’m glad. I like it when you laugh.”

He knew that he should put a stop to this. Knew it, but. There was no reasoning for it outside of selfishness and Regis acknowledged that to himself but let Noctis continue trailing his mouth over his neck, tugging aside the layers of his shirt and vest to get to his collarbone.

It was soothing in a way. To just drift backwards into memory for a few minutes, letting it wash over him without the sharpness from earlier in the day. To relax and remember what it felt like to have her hands on him; what it was like to feel her breath on his skin.

He was so lost in memories that his conscious mind fought to snap him back into reality as Noctis opened and shoved aside his belt, popp the button on his trousers and start working on his zipper.

“Noctis,” Regis’s reprimand was sharp, cutting through the warm silence of the room. “Do not….”

“Dad,” Noctis looked up from his position on his knees between his father’s legs and smiled. “It’s fine. I swear. Just relax, okay?”

Had he been a better man, had he not been tired and desperate to get back into the fantasy of his imagination, he would have surely objected. But Noctis’s hand on his chest, pushing him back again….

There was no excuse. Regis knew that and was ashamed of it but did nothing as his son freed his cock and drew his tongue along its length before his mouth - warm and wet and so like hers in his mind’s eye - enveloped his length.

It would not take long, Regis thought to himself as he watched Noctis’s head bob over his lap, it never did. But his son must be in possession of skills that neither his mother nor his father possessed, because he drew the pleasure, alternating between long slow and short fast motions, sinking his cock deep into his throat  while hollowing out his cheeks or just letting just his tongue play around the very tip, teasing and toying with cool breath before starting all over again.

“Noct…!” The warning was ample, regis was sure but instead of backing away before he came, Noctis braced his hands on the arms of the chair and pressed his head forward. Regis could feel his throat working, swallowing to fight the urge to gag as Regis’s hips jerked up and he spilled his release into Noctis’s throat.

He stayed that way for three heartbeats after Regis subsided, a hand clamped over his mouth to silence his moans, before pulling away. Regis watched as Noctis swiped a casual hand across the back of his mouth and patted his father’s bad leg gently.

“It’s late, Dad. I’m going to head home. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

And without another word, he was gone with the door clicking shut softly behind him because Regis could even say a word - of apology? Of explanation? Of what exactly he had no idea.


End file.
